Travel Poem -Simone

Thinking of morocco

would you entertain the notion of:

grassland,

lush and rich and endless, speckled with wildflowers and sheep

upon sheep

upon goats, blurring past you in a whir of inviting damp greenness

and architecture,

the imprint of moors apparent in old town squares,

and homes filled with intricately painted tiles, european

yet more fitting here

than any western home

and islam,

a national religion so devoted that sometimes it quietly hurts,

and then the echo of call to prayer resounds through your ears

and heart

days after you’ve departed

then satellites,

upon satellites

upon roofs, with yet more satellites wedged between,

all angled as though replacing worship of the sun

with that of soaring spacecrafts

or french,

issuing effortlessly from nearly every moroccan mouth you encounter,

be they employees of the government,

or waiters

launching them instantly into an identity so unique

sometimes you forget that this is africa

and doughnuts!

frisbee-sized rings of doughy goodness,

pulled straight from the fryer and plopped in your eager paws and

rolled so delightfully in cinnamon and sugar

rather than sand

upon sand

upon camels and expansive brownness,

layered in with a photo montage of hollywood casablanca

the implanted notions you would expect your mind to conjure up

when contemplating morocco